A second beast leaped onto the horse’s flank, dragging its claws through the shaggy fur, then sinking its teeth into a hind leg, bringing the creature crashing to the ground. Both predators extended black tentacles from their torsos. The lead beast tore the horse’s belly open with its teeth, spilling shiny Gen Water across the ground, which they immediately suckled through the writhing cables.
More horses stampeded past their fallen peer. Snarling beasts pursued them. Their sleek white fur shone beneath the flare as they weaved among their prey. A beast at the rear of the herd stopped and sniffed the air. It turned its long snout towards Lucy’s group.
The flare overhead flickered out.
Lucy turned rigid, pressing herself against the turtle’s shell, huddling alongside Ruth and Karys. The hairs on Lucy’s skin bristled as a deep snarl rumbled from from the darkness. She could hear the beast’s sniffs as it prowled closer.
A long white snout edged towards her in the scant moonlight. It sucked in Lucy’s scent. Her skin crawled with terror. She stifled a cry as she felt its putrid breath blow across her face.
Somewhere nearby, another beast choked and spluttered loudly. It rasped and wheezed, then slumped to the ground with a thud. The creatures around it howled in alarm. The beast nearest Lucy snarled and pivoted on the spot, bounding away through the grass to join the rest of the pack as they sprinted away, chasing the fading herd.
No-one dared move for several minutes, until the creatures’ snarls and the distant horses’ hooves had faded entirely. They were alone, in the midnight blue field, with only the truck’s lights for company, and the spluttering, gargling of an abandoned beast. Ruth shone a flashlight in the direction of the creature.
“You ready?” she said, rising to her feet.
Lucy joined her. Together they edged towards the noise. The beast lay sprawled beside a dead horse, choking. Vast shivers rippled through the length of its quivering body. Its fur was falling out, revealing patches of pinkish-black skin beneath, which bubbled and moved like it was boiling. The creature spluttered once more, and spurted Gen Water from each of its black tentacles.
The spewed, translucent liquid pooled around the horse’s torn belly. The top layer was streaked with a swirling band of rainbow colors, like an oil slick.
“We should get out of here,” said Lucy.
“Shouldn’t we collect it – as a sample or something?” said Ruth.
“It’s not safe. I’ve never seen Gen Water pool this fast. Something in the horse’s DNA must’ve done this, like a defense from one D4 creature against another. Both creatures’ cells are de-specializing incredibly quickly. Look how they’re merging – they’re forming a single globule. The next step is re-specialization. It could happen any minute and I have no idea what it will generate. We need to get out of here,” said Lucy.
They hurried back to Karys, who was clinging to the turtle, traumatized.
“You’re – you’re alive? Your jacket worked too?” she said, pointing a shaky finger at Ruth.
Ruth pressed her hand to her chest, reverently patting the blood pack Lucy had given her.
“It did. The difference is, I know who saved me. Can you say the same?” said Ruth.
***
It took them all night to make it back to base. During that time the turtle-dillo’s condition deteriorated – it was too weak to attempt further escapes, but Lucy was worried that it might now die before it yielded any of the vital white powder they so badly needed.
As they hauled their captive down the ramp, soldiers and farmers stopped eating breakfast and stared in disbelief. Sid, the Secretary of Agriculture, paced up to the truck.
“What in hell’s name do you call this?” he fumed.
“Research,” said Lucy.
“You three go AWOL for three days then come back with this thing?” said Sid.
“I sanctioned the mission, under authority from the Medical Council,” said Karys, as the crate slid onto the ground with a thud. The turtle-dillo let out a feeble hiss.
“Authority?” said Sid. “You’re a botanist, Karys, you report to me. Your job is to make sure we don’t all starve to death in the next three months, not waste time playing Darwin’s adventures or whatever the hell this is.”
The farmers murmured from the sidelines, clutching their bowls of porridge. The creature had retracted inside its shell, which had lost its sheen. The brilliant turquoise was deteriorating into blotchy patches of pastel blue and green.
“Is it dangerous?” said Johnny, stepping closer and eyeing it up warily.
“It’s a herbivore. It doesn’t attack humans. Can you guys get it to the lab truck?” said Lucy.
Johnny, Pete, and a few of the other farm hands begrudgingly necked the remainder of their breakfasts, then took over the haulage, aiming for Karys’s mobile laboratory.
“A package arrived for you while you were away,” said Sid.
“From the hospital?” said Karys.
He nodded resentfully, as Karys immediately set off for her trailer. Lucy was incensed by the news.
“What the hell, Sid, a DC truck was here? You promised me I’d be rotated out at the next transfer,” said Lucy.
“Quiet, Young. I made no such promise. You may be Adrian’s niece or whatever, but out here there’s no special treatment,” he snapped.
Lucy’s blood boiled at this misrepresentation. Adrian’s niece?
“I was his son’s life partner, you asshole,” said Lucy.
“Really? Poor Adrian,” said Sid.
Lucy took a step towards him, her fists clenched, but Ruth shoved a firm hand against her chest.
“Cool it. People are depending on you. Focus on the powder,” said Ruth, quietly.
Lucy stared at the caged turtle, as the farmers dragged it across the yard. A wave of excitement stole over her.
“Wait!” she cried, hurrying over to the cage. She pointed to the shell above the turtle’s rear leg. A thin band of white powder lined the archway. “It’s working – this is what we’re gathering.”
Sid marched over.
“Looks like dandruff,” he snorted.
“It’s more like anthrax. It’s highly toxic – so no-one get too close. But we can weaponize it against the beasts – against all of the creatures,” beamed Lucy.
“You mean, it’s like a defense?” said Johnny.
“That’s the aim. Proper protection for farmers and soldiers, which will secure our food production capabilities. But I’ll need to get it back to DC, for more research,” said Lucy, making a concerted effort to speak Sid’s language.
“We’ll see about that,” frowned the secretary.
Karys had re-emerged from her trailer, with a foil parcel tucked under her arm.
“Hey, green fingers, is what she’s telling me true?” said Sid.
“It’s a prototype,” said Karys, distractedly.
“I mean the powder – is it toxic?” said Sid.
“Highly,” replied Karys.
“In that case, get it loaded up, and move your damned trailer down the road. I don’t want anyone else on this camp dying for no good reason,” said Sid.
A hand-held bell rang out across the way, and the remaining two dozen workers and soldiers got up from the breakfast campfire and prepared to move out for the day’s work, attempting to resurrect industrial-scale farm equipment in the surrounding fields. Sid gave Lucy a look of deep distrust, then peeled off to join them.
“Is that what I think it is?” said Lucy, eyeing up Karys’s parcel.
Karys nodded, grimly. “Two more packs. Harvey sent a note. Apparently infecteds’ blood loses its defensive qualities within a few days of being… collected,” she trailed off.
“So those pouches will need to be constantly replaced,” said Ruth.
“All the more reason to get this powder to Harvey A-SAP,” said Lucy.
“How long do you think it’ll take to grow a big enough sample?” said Karys.
“The disease
should accelerate over the next few days,” said Lucy.
“No way the turtle’s gonna last that long. That thing’s weak. At this rate, it’ll be dead by dinner,” said Ruth.
“We can’t let that happen – the powder stops growing when it dies,” said Lucy.
“But how do we keep it alive?” said Karys.
“Feed it,” shrugged Ruth.
“With what, Gen Water?” said Lucy.
“I know a place. But you’re not gonna like it,” said Karys.
***
Lucy rejoined the others by the deserted campfire. Ruth’s insistence that they all get four hours of sleep before departing had cost them precious daylight. According to Sid, the camp had been put on high alert, with a strict sundown curfew in effect.
Karys turned her back awkwardly as she tugged out the old blood bag from her flak jacket, and inserted the fresh one sent by Harvey.
“What do you think I should do with the used one?” she said, awkwardly.
“Hold a funeral if you like,” said Lucy, scraping out the last of the porridge from the vat. It was as dry as cement.
“You should destroy it,” said Ruth, finishing her own bowlful.
Karys glanced around, guiltily, then tossed the blood bag into the center of the log pile, where it wilted and blistered in the flames.
Lucy bit her lip as she thought of Lopez. She couldn’t ignore the gnawing memory of him strapped down in the cell, being electrocuted, blasted with white noise, submerged in ice baths. He’d tried to hang himself and she’d intervened. What right did she have? He was infected because of her. He was still alive because of her. He was trapped because of her. Was it his blood on the fire? Or in the new pouch?
She forced the thoughts from her mind, and tried to focus on the task ahead. The sooner they got the white powder to Harvey, the sooner they could stop his insane blood bag program.
They loaded the truck with shovels and buckets, and set off towards the D4 wheat field. Lucy shuddered as they rumbled along the uneven road, past the place where they’d burned the farmer’s body just days before. A mound of soil covered the spot, with a large rock laid at the end, in lieu of a headstone. Pete must have returned to bury his wife in the intervening days. A handful of saplings poked through the loose earth, stretching out their yellow-green leaves across the grave and basking in the sun.
As they approached the perimeter fence, Lucy and Karys exchanged an anxious glance. They knew the dangers that lay in the fields beyond. Last time seven of them had crossed the threshold, and only five came back. Those were bad odds, in a group of three. Lucy’s infected status gave her little confidence in a field where predators could re-specialize and learn fast. One swing of a giant centipede’s tail could shatter her bones. If a D4 creature figured out how to strike her without shedding her blood, her toxicity would be no defense at all.
They parked up and crossed through the metal gate. The purple ivy covering the fence was thickening at the top. With firearms in one hand, and shovels in the other, they approached the unnaturally warm field. Lucy glanced at the path Pete had hacked apart three days prior. Four rat carcasses lay across the path. Their flesh had been devoured, leaving behind only clumps of fur and bone. The fallen crop stems from their previous visit were gone too; devoured by the insects, leaving only black soil beneath.
Taking care not to disturb the wheat, which brimmed with clusters of sleeping insects, huddling together in pods at the tips of each tall stalk, they entered the side of the field. Pressing the grass apart, they forged a direct path through the dense growth, until they reached the site of the attack.
They stopped and surveyed the scorched clearing. There was no trace of the centipede, or the sergeant, save for patches of glistening damp. Lucy looked around for an explanation – usually the clothes remained behind after the body degraded. Perhaps the D4 enzyme had adapted to digest them too?
“Might as well try here,” said Karys, kneeling by a silvery patch of earth, which looked like a freeway for snails. Ultra-short, thin golden stems poked through the soil, bereft of leaves.
“Size looks about right,” said Lucy, grimly estimating what sort of liquid footprint the sergeant’s decapitated body would have left.
“So his body’s been entirely degraded?” said Ruth.
Stalks crackled from the surrounding crop rows. The group froze, guns drawn, peering around the clearing. Lucy’s eyes flitted to Ruth, then Karys. The three turned back to back and scoured the field for movement. Another crackle – this time from the opposite direction. A grouse burst up from the dense crop line, beating its wings frantically as it fled for the neighboring fields. Lucy studied the direction the bird had emerged from. Her heart pounded. But all was still. After a moment, Karys broke away.
“This’ll have to do. Let’s take what we can and see if the turtle can extract the Gen Water from it,” she said, running her gloved fingers through the moist dirt.
For several minutes the three of them dug in silence. To Lucy’s surprise, the silvery trails ran through the soil like a seam.
“I guess that’s it,” said Karys, setting her shovel down and examining the filled buckets.
Ruth cursed and shook out her hand, as her shovel struck something firm. Lucy knelt down and scooped the soil back with her hands, revealing a thick, knotted root running horizontally through the ground like a pipe. She recognized the color and texture all too well.
“What is it?” said Karys, looking closely.
“It’s a land reef. We thought we’d cleared it, but it looks like it runs a lot deeper than we imagined,” said Lucy.
She knelt back and gazed in the direction the root led – through the D4 wheat field and into the fenced perimeter beyond.
A cry rang out from the field. It was a man’s voice.
“Is that–” began Karys, looking from Ruth to Lucy, and mirroring their expressions of dread.
“The larva – it must’ve survived the grenade,” said Lucy, in horror.
“To hell with this, let’s go,” said Ruth, drawing her rifle.
“But your bucket–” said Lucy.
“Leave it, we need to move – these jackets only work for so long. I really don’t wanna be testing the expiration date on mine,” said Ruth.
Lucy and Karys grabbed their buckets, and took up Ruth’s between them. They dived into the overgrowth, jostling against the densely packed stems as they went. Pods of wheat fell to the ground, where the insects unfurled in their wake. The sound of splintering stems echoed around them, accompanied by another chilling cry for help.
“Hurry!” called Ruth.
As Karys pressed ahead, the handle on the middle bucket sheared. Lucy collided with the fallen container and fell to the ground. She scrabbled around, trying to sweep the Gen Water sludge inside.
“Leave it!” ordered Ruth, hauling Lucy up by the scruff of her neck.
They rushed after Karys, who had disappeared from the crop jungle and was speeding towards the fence. The sound of collapsing crops was closing in. Ruth fired a suppressing pattern into the foliage. The row of plants behind them fell flat with a crunch. Ruth screamed in terror as the wailing creature reared upwards, casting a shadow across their path. Praying Karys was ready to cover them, Lucy dropped her half-filled bucket and ran. Straining every sinew in her body, she dived clear of the crop rows, and sprinted for the gate.
THREE
Powder
____________________________________
The near-miss had shaken all of them. Even Ruth seemed unsettled, which only amplified Lucy’s fears. Karys had barely spoken since leaving the field, and she’d startled at the slightest sounds. They were risking their lives to save infected humans from other humans. It was insane. As they drove back to camp, her blood boiled with the injustice of it all.
They arrived to find the Secretary for Agriculture leaning against the medical trailer, smoking.
“Where’d you find the cigarette?” said Ruth, jealously, as th
ey climbed out of the truck. Their evening shadows stretched long across the yard.
“Like I’m telling you,” said Sid, exhaling a cloud of smoke.
He lightly stubbed the cigarette out against the side of the truck, then doused the smoldering remainder with his wetted fingertips, and tucked it away in his breast pocket.
“Something going on in there we should know about?” said Karys, heaving her bucket out from the truck.
“Knock yourselves out,” said Sid, despondently.
He slouched off towards the campfire, where the evening vat of gruel was simmering away.
“You coming?” said Karys.
“I’ve seen enough. I’ll get the soil to the lab,” said Ruth, still shaken from their second near-miss with the centipede creatures.
Lucy followed Karys up into the medical trailer.
“Close the door,” hissed a medic.
Lucy pulled it tight behind her, shutting out the cool evening air. She adjusted her eyes to the dim interior. The shutters were drawn, and a solar lamp had been turned to face a corner, obscuring much of its light.
On the central trolley lay a shivering man. His skin looked balmy, and devoid of the creases a grey-haired human should normally have. The man opened his wet lips but no words came out. He looked imploringly to the medic, who understood, and gently placed another blanket across his legs.
Lucy’s eyes fell on a pale patch of skin behind the man’s bronzed ear. It looked like a birthmark, shaped somewhere between a half love-heart and a capital ‘B’. But the coloring was wrong for a birthmark – it looked like his skin had been bleached.
“He was working in the fields. One minute he was fine, then the next he came over all dizzy and weak. That was less than an hour ago. He’s gone downhill real quick,” said the medic, using a quiet voice, as if the patient wasn’t inches away from him.
“Was he able to say what hit him?” said Lucy.
“No idea. Maybe he should’ve been wearing one of your fancy vests,” said the medic, gesturing to Karys and Lucy’s flak jackets.
Convulsive Box Set Page 68